


Soothe My Soul

by red_starshine



Category: Constantine (TV), Hellblazer & Related Fandoms
Genre: Fluff, Hugs, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-22
Updated: 2015-04-22
Packaged: 2018-03-25 05:39:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3798790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/red_starshine/pseuds/red_starshine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For John Constantine, there's only one thing that can make an awful day better.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Soothe My Soul

**Author's Note:**

> For an anon's prompt on Tumblr: ‘John has an awful day and feels exhausted after a case and when he comes back to the mill house all he wants is to hug and being held by Chas because he needs it but doesn't know how to ask or if he can at all’. 
> 
> Warning, it is fluffy. 
> 
> Thanks so much, anon, this was fun! :D

It had been a rough day, even by John Constantine’s lofty standards.

First, there had been the research in the mill house’s library. Certainly not pleasant, but not the worst part of his day by far. That had been trying to outwit one clever arsehole of a shapeshifter.

John usually disliked having to resort to clubbing things to death, but sometimes it was simply unavoidable in his line of work.

The shapeshifter had gotten its fair share of punches and kicks in before finally expiring, the damn bastard, and everything hurt. No broken bones, no lasting injuries, but just enough lingering pain to make sure the next few days would be deeply unpleasant. Chas had missed out on most of the fight between John and the shapeshifter due to being dead, only coming back to life after John had already killed the shapeshifter. It’s been easy to hide how banged up he’d really been in the dark.

Chas had driven them back to the mill house while John tried his best to act like he didn’t want to scream out bloody murder each time the cab hit a dip in the road and jostled his bruised ribs.

Chas had gone into the mill house’s small kitchen to cook a late dinner for the two of them, leaving John alone in the main room with an aching body and a generally foul mood. He collapsed onto the cushions of the black leather sofa in front of the fireplace with his mud-splattered trenchcoat still on.

God, he felt so tired.

“Chas...” groaned John. It seemed like the right thing to do even when he wasn’t exactly sure what he needed from Chas. For Chas to bring him a bottle of whiskey to take the edge off the pain? An ice pack? A handful of paracetamol and a glass of water?

No, he realized after a moment, all those things would be nice but they weren’t what he really needed from Chas. He was quiet for a moment while he mulled over his thoughts. “Chas?” John asked again, doing his best to sound as miserable as possible. He didn’t need to pretend very hard.

“Little busy, John,” said Chas in the kitchen over the sound of a knife cutting against a wooden board.

John let out a displeased noise, straining to find a position on the sofa that didn’t make his ribs burn. “Chas,” he repeated more insistently, letting his head fall back over the arm of the sofa.

There was a put-upon sigh from the kitchen and Chas emerged wiping his hands on a dishcloth. Chas stopped short from John’s sofa, annoyance dissipating into genuine concern as he got a good look at John for the first time since he’d revived. “Jesus. You look awful, John.”

John offered him the most sardonic smile he could muster under the circumstances. “Thanks, mate.”

Chas stared at John, watching him carefully. “So I’m assuming that fight between you and the shapeshifter didn’t go as well as you said it did, huh?”

John shifted uncomfortably on the sofa under Chas’s gaze, wincing slightly when his ribs twinged in pain. “I may have omitted a few key details,” he admitted slowly.

Chas shook his head, his eyes rolling up briefly. “You and your stupid pride,” he muttered, walking over to the sofa, the cushions sagging slightly as he sat down next to John, dropping the dishtowel on the small table in front of the sofa. “So where’d that thing get you?”

“Lucky kick to the lower left ribs,” mumbled John, looking down at the floor.

There was a deep sigh from next to him, and the sound of the leather cushions shifting slightly. Strong arms encircled John, gently guiding him closer to the other man on the sofa. John let himself melt against Chas’s side, the pain in his ribs slowly fading out of his mind as he pressed his face against the warm fabric of Chas’s sweater.

“You stubborn jackass,” Chas said kindly, letting one of his hands rest against the top of John’s head for a moment.  “Should’ve said something to me in the cab.”

John gave a quiet snort. “Nah. My fiendish plot to get you on this sofa with me worked out exactly as I planned,” he said tiredly, his voice slightly muffled by Chas’s thick sweater.

Chas laughed, and John could feel the laughter vibrate in Chas’s chest as it gently rose and fell with each breath, hear the rhythmic, steady thump of Chas’s heart beating, and allowed them to gradually soothe the aches and pains of his terrible day away.

Chas himself really was better than any drug or painkiller, John decided.


End file.
